Gemotions

He ripped the invitation open, the paper tearing with a ferocity that matched the storm brewing inside him. A knot formed in his stomach. Thirty years. Thirty years since he’d walked those hallowed halls, and now this. A demand to revisit the scene of the crime.

He tossed the glossy invitation onto the cluttered desk, a crumpled ball of potential disappointment. His hands, clenched into fists, felt heavy and useless. He glared at the photo of the school, its pristine facade a jarring contrast to the memories he held.

He thought of the words, the slights, the injustices he’d suffered there. The memory of the way he was treated, the casual cruelty, still stung. He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture almost violent. The idea of facing those people, those classmates, after all this time was unbearable. He wanted to destroy it all.